


The Storm and After

by Nehszriah



Series: The Thick of UNIT [5]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Malcolm being too sweet for Malcolm, Medical Shock, Prompt Fic, battle-induced injuries, h/c fic, promises being made to ghosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 12:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5247902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehszriah/pseuds/Nehszriah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A treaty goes sour and a UNIT higher-up nearly has to pay the price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Storm and After

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written in two different prompts over on my writing tumblr, but I decided to stick them together here for completion's sake. Unsure where this goes in my TTOU timeline, but it's still Malcolm Tucker and Kate Stewart, so I'm categorizing it as such.

“Are these Sontaran tossers always this forceful?” Malcolm winced. He kept his teeth clenched as he crouched behind the metal crates in the warehouse, attempting to keep his mind off his shoulder. It was more than just his shoulder—his entire left arm was beginning to feel numb and both his jacket and shirt were torn to shreds around where the blast connected—but he was determined to keep a straight face.

“I’ve definitely seen worse,” Kate quipped, quickly checking on the situation still taking place on the other side of their barricade. Sontarans and UNIT soldiers were engaged in a firefight that had nicked her Director of Communications, as well as separated them from the rest of the negotiation team and the medics. Bringing firepower along had been a precautionary measure due to the nature of Sontarans, yet it proved invaluable now that they were stuck in their current predicament. “Next time, maybe you’ll think before you speak to an interstellar mercenary holding a phaser rifle.”

“It looks like something I got Lex for her twelfth birthday; it shot suction-cup bullets with spongy ends. How was I supposed to know that calling one of them ‘sweetcakes’ as a threat would set them off that badly?”

“If it would make a drunk whip out a knife, _don’t say it_.” She glanced back at Malcolm and cursed under her breath; he was becoming increasingly pale and sweaty, with his heart visibly beating in his chest. “No… no, no, no… I just got you on payroll; I am _not_ finding someone else.”

“What do you mean, darling?” he wondered. His breath was thin and voice strained. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not without a box if you don’t shut up and do as I say,” she replied. Kate stripped him of his jacket, wadding it up and placing it down on the floor, using it as a pillow for him to place his head on while she laid him down. His eyes started becoming glassy as she ripped the hole in his shirt open further, revealing the red-yellow oozing coming from his wound. She whipped out her mobile and called Osgood.

‘ _Yes, ma’am?_ ’

“You see me over here, yeah?” she asked, poking her head above the crates. Kate saw Osgood on the other side and they made eye contact, ducking back down immediately afterward.

‘ _What’s wrong?_ ’

“Slide me a medkit—the berk’s going into shock.”

‘ _Bloody_ …’

The signal cut and a minute later a small grey box slid across the floor and into Kate’s reach. She grabbed it and searched through the contents. There were several vials along with an injector pen; once she found the correct vial she loaded it into the pen and slammed the tip directly into Malcolm’s wound to no response from him. Once the contents of the vial was fully empty—the initial medicine to keep him going until they got to the medical bay—she popped it out and began searching for the painkiller.

“Hold on just a bit longer,” she told her patient. She was about to perform the second injection when Malcolm’s pupils dilated and his body began convulsing. “No, no, let it _take effect_ you hardheaded idiot!” Kate tried holding him down at his chest, yet he involuntarily bucked her off. She hefted him up to a sitting position instead, grabbing hold of him to keep his arms tight against his sides in a stiff hug. A half a minute more of twitching and he began to calm, limply sinking into her arms and chin on her shoulder.

Reaching carefully, Kate grabbed the quickly-discarded injector pen and administered the painkillers through his shirt and into the back of his left shoulder. With that vial also empty, she breathed a sigh of relief and leaned into Malcolm. Closing her eyes, she let the sound of rifle-fire and the smells of aftershave and burnt fabric overtake her.

* * *

Everything was taken care of—the Sontarans were in custody, the mess they made had been cleaned up, and the day had been saved once again. Now it was for in the morning and Kate Stewart found herself sitting at Malcolm Tucker’s bedside in the medical bay, half-dead from exhaustion and a bit scratched-up herself. It was nothing, really, and all she really needed was a decent night’s sleep and a couple well-placed sticking plasters. That would come later though, for now the soft beeping of monitors and sterile smell of disinfectant would have to do.

Taking his hand in hers, she carefully examined the IV needle that was stuck in one of his large blue veins. Pale, soft skin was something she expected on the hand of an Irish model, not a knobby, foul-mouthed, media jockey. She put it down and leaned back in her chair.

“Pick it back up, love; felt nice. It was almost as if I had someone caring about me,” Malcolm chuckled, voice raw and quiet. Kate looked over and saw that his eyes were now open and he was giving her the cockiest smile imaginable.

“Why do I even let you out of your office?” she groaned. She watched as he turned his gaze towards the ceiling, blinking slowly.

“Worth it,” he said. “Got you to sit in my lap.”

Kate sat up, her attention piqued. “You were _aware_ during all of that?” she marveled.

“Fully conked out after you gave me the second injection—whatever that was worked like a dream. Two minutes of you holding me and I was out.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Malcolm—you are incorrigible.”

“O’course I am—that’s why you busted me out, yeah?” He reached over and took her hand this time, making sure they locked eyes. “Are _you_ alright though?”

“I’m fine…”

“Don’t fib to the Master of Lies and Deceit—you look _awful_ … like one of those pop star hags with too much eye makeup.”

“There was just a lot of clean-up work and now it’s too close to the work day to go home.” She scooted her chair closer to the bed and leaned up against it. “Maybe I should just sleep here—it’s just a couple lift rides to the office.”

“Here? This fucking beeping is driving me bananas.”

“It’s a comfort.” Kate paused and laced their fingers together, breathing deeply as she prepared herself for rest. “My dad recently passed away, and I spent a lot of time in the hospital with him during his last years. The beeping means you’re still here, still alive, still viable, and I’d rather have that than silence.”

Malcolm mused on that, unsure of how to respond. “Can’t say I know what that’s like, Mam being one to go down with her sword a-flying if she ever does,” he replied. “I used to work with a bunch of blokes that didn’t mind when their da passed on, ‘cause that meant they got the title and lands and fortunes.”

“No… I had to earn this,” Kate smirked. “Dad was there to guide me, but I won this spot on my own merits.”

“What…?” he wondered. Had his bed not already been one that was elevated he would have sat up. “I don’t get it—you’re saying this is the family business?”

“In a way,” she nodded. “My father was Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, and he ran the forebear of Mainframe UK for many years, as well as served as advisory personnel for when we were becoming what we are today.”

“ _He_ was your da? I always thought it was an eerie coincidence.”

“No coincidence I’m my father’s daughter.” She thought for a moment before letting out a small laugh. “He would have liked you; rough around the edges, but you’re a Scotsman through and through, and far from apologetic about it. People that didn’t make excuses for themselves were always top-notch to him.”

“I’m glad.” He let the sound of the monitors take over the conversation for a moment, simply to relax in her company. “Must’ve been nice having a father like that.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she responded, half-asleep. He stroked her thumb with his as they both sat there. When her breathing was slow and heavy and unmistakably in the middle of sleep, he exhaled heavily, glad that she was resting.

“I’ll take good care of her, sir,” he told the empty portion of the room. “I don’t know what you heard about me while you were kicking, and I’m sure a hefty portion of it was shit, but you have my word. I’ll treat her like I want my Lex to be treated by her beaus, and that is impeccably. That’s what being a da is, yeah? I wouldn’t know, but I’m trying.” He squeezed her hand gently and closed his eyes. “Thanks… for making her who she is.”


End file.
